


ᐃᒪᐅᑉ ᓯᓈ

by Helasdottir



Series: Beluga Mermen [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arctic, Alternate Universe - Merfolk, Fluff, M/M, Merman Nines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 12:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: Gavin wanted to leave Detroit behind, get away from his old ghosts and forget himself in the cold North. He never expected to find more warmth there than he'd ever felt before.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Beluga Mermen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981102
Comments: 20
Kudos: 181





	ᐃᒪᐅᑉ ᓯᓈ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdelineAround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/gifts).

> I do not speak Inuktitut and I've never been anywhere near the Arctic Circle, so I apologize for any errors using the language or describing the land and the experience of living there. This is just something cute I wanted to write for my friend Ada.

Gavin can’t say with sincerity that he hates the cold. He’s bothered by how it nips at his cheeks and stings his fingers when he’s brave – or reckless – enough to leave them uncovered, but with each passing week, he gets more and more used to the North. It helps that the height of winter is slowly fading into spring, though the temperature remains far below what it must be in Detroit.

He never truly gets homesick, for as much as he thinks about it. Tina’s there, but they call each other over video when they get the chance. If he bothers, he can follow his other friends through the Internet, see their lives go on without him, and feel just as connected as he was back there: not at all. At most, he missed the rush of the big city, the noise and the dirt and the chaos, but that was only before he learned to appreciate the silence and the wind that cuts it, the sound of trucks on work days and of the ocean when he gets to rest.

Gavin knows, of course, that there are plenty of cities available where he could get his fix of pollution between weeks of work. They simply don’t feel right. Out here, where the returning light makes his eyes hurt to look into the endless white and gray landscape, it’s easy to pretend he’s changed alongside his environment. To pretend he’s doing something _good_ for people.

He’s even starting to appreciate nature, slowly but surely. Once he caves and begins to protect himself from the sunlight bouncing off the white expanse, he begins to take notice of the animals that blend into the environment. Most, he’s sure, still pass entirely unnoticed with their white coats and general unwillingness to place themselves in harm’s way. Very few are seen near the worksite, but the true marvel comes when he wanders away from the road, away from any populated area, on days off when he feels curious enough to explore.

Some of these explorations take him towards the coast, when he has more time and less concern for when he’s set to return. It’s there he can see a variety of wildlife – more now than before, with the melting of the ice, the forming water channels combined with his increased focus on spotting the animals. His most exciting discovery is a group of walruses, the like he’d only ever thought to see on television. He’s careful not to get close to those.

Nothing compares to something he _thinks_ he sees by the time the sun spends enough time in the sky to trick him into feeling warm. It’s a white silhouette on the ice, an environment where it blends in with little issue – except for a distant, dark blur Gavin initially mistakes for a second animal or perhaps rock. He approaches slowly, only enough to better identify the animal, and notices that the dark spot is _hair_. A large, thick tail blends seamlessly into pale skin, and he’s unable to see details before the merman startles, sliding off the ice and into the water.

Gavin knows _of_ merfolk – a general term for partially humanoid sea creatures, most species of which tend to live isolated from their bipedal counterparts and far from heavily settled land. Seeing one of their kind with his own eyes is nothing short of a surreal experience. It’s something he brings up to some of the other men when he goes back to work, and they all share looks like they know a secret he’s not allowed in on.

They can keep their silence. All the Internet has to say about this particular type of merfolk is that they are seldom seen near humans, with distrustful tendencies and a preference for their own kind. That doesn’t stop Gavin from trying to see more of them. It’s only weeks later that he gets his wish: a brief but clear sighting of a family composed of a mermaid and two children, the little ones with gray tails that stand out when compared to the mother. She’s the one who ushers them away when she notices Gavin, and all three disappear under the ice.

The image consumes his waking days from then on – Gavin finds himself wishing he knew how to draw; his rough sketch in the travel notebook Tina gave him hardly resembles a living being. He considers using a camera the next few times he goes out near the water, but that would feel disrespectful. _Invasive_. Gavin already feels that way more often than he’d like.

There’s an added element to it that keeps him from telling Tina, from talking about the merfolk with people that might not know of them. With time and more brief sightings, he’s come to understand that they are not rare and antisocial – they are careful, afraid, appearing only where _qallunaat_ aren’t frequent visitors. Gavin can’t begrudge them for it; even the new roads threaten to expose these rare creatures to a vast and dangerous world that may seek to possess and not protect them.

The humans, for their part, seem to realize he means no disrespect. It’s not enough to earn him the secrets of the merfolk, but he does feel more welcome to join his coworkers as they share bowls of _suasaat_ after a hard day of work. They also seem to grow more comfortable discussing their lives and traditions near him, no longer expecting harsh judgment or unsustainable views on hunting now that he understands – to a very small and limited extent – what it means to live above the Arctic Circle.

This gives Gavin more confidence to return to the shore again and again, until he notices that the merfolk no longer immediately run from him. He wonders how they communicate, if they can share information about humans who are or not threats, and whether this means he’s been deemed safe to be around.

That suspicion is cemented into fact when he spots a lone merman lounging on the shore under the night sun. Gavin’s presence does not go unnoticed and the creature stares right at him, bright eyes seeming curious and challenging at once. It can be a trap, a test, but Gavin feels compelled to approach. He moves slowly but with purpose, keeping his gaze trained on the merman lest it – he? – disappear into the water.

Up close, the creature is even more enchanting. His tail is bright white, but the skin above it has the slightest blue tint to it: an undertone that may help camouflage him on ice, or perhaps Gavin is simply thinking too hard. Higher, starting at his upper back and arms and rising all the way to his face, the skin is peppered with moles and freckles subtle enough not to be dramatic, but clear enough to accentuate the sharp, hard features under the soft exterior.

Gavin is standing close enough to touch when the merman rolls over and sits, propped up on his arms, his tail changing shape as the blubber shifts. It outlines what look like legs trapped inside, something he’d seen once before in beluga whales at an aquarium. It’s no less disturbing now.

The merman still watches Gavin, head inclined, until his hand taps the ground in what can only be read as an invitation to sit beside him. Gavin could say he takes the offer so as not to be insulting, but in truth his heart bursts with joy at the mere thought of being welcomed by such a being. It’s not something he could have ever imagined, not when he signed up to work in a region he had previously only predicted to be _far_ and _empty_.

He sits slowly, keeping a few inches of distance between them and wondering what to do with his hands, wondering where to look, what to say – if he should say anything at all. Do mermen speak English? He hopes this one does, if he speaks human languages at all, because Gavin’s barely-there knowledge of Inuktitut cannot get him through a conversation with another human.

“Uh.” Gavin’s throat makes the sound involuntarily, tormented by excitement, anxiety and the lingering silence between them. He sees the white tail ripple where the merman moves again, shifting closer, raising one hand to hover near Gavin’s face. “Hey?”

A small clicking sound comes from the merman, followed by something deeper and more nasal. Gavin has heard the vocalizations from a distance before, but this is entirely new. He swallows nervously and removes his gloves, reaching out slow and careful to touch the soft, thick white tail. It’s cold on the surface, but incredibly smooth. He doesn’t even register that this is a faux pas until his hand is slapped away, those cold eyes now livid as the merman slides closer to the water.

“Wait. Wait, shit, I’m sorry.” Gavin doesn’t think about the temperature of the water or how likely he is to get sick if he falls in, he moves on instinct – and is lucky enough that the merman stops, only his tail touching the gentle waves that wash over the rocky shore. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m a big fuckin’ idiot and I didn’t think and – I didn’t mean to cross a line here, and I’ve got no clue if you even know what I’m saying, but I won’t do it again.”

The merman still seems doubtful, ready to slip further and disappear under the waves at the slightest hint of provocation, so Gavin searches his mind for anything else that might help. He thinks first of putting his glove back – both to protect from the biting cold wind starting to come in and to signal his willingness to respect this physical boundary. Then, combing through the rudimentary language lessons he’s had from fellow workers, he tries to push aside his worry and use a language this being may be more familiar with.

“Ee-la,” Gavin begins, broken pronunciation causing him to falter. He’s not sure this is even the way to use the word, or if he’s being disrespectful by attempting this without a native speaker to help. “Ilaaniungituq.”

However bad his attempt may be, it seems to work. The merman’s expression softens, and Gavin scoots back and sits properly to give him space. It’s still a surreal sight, seeing such a creature up close, moving towards Gavin and sitting with his tail curved.

“I don’t know how to ask if you know how to speak, or like, know English, so…” Gavin pauses when the merman clicks again, another soft little sound that seems to come from his throat. “Kinauvit?”

His question, however simple, seems to amuse the merman. Maybe it’s once again tied to Gavin’s pronunciation, or to how glaringly obvious it is that he is an outsider, a _qallunaat_ trying to get by on limited vocabulary. Finally, the merman’s expression shifts to something near amusement – he’s not smiling, not fully, but Gavin can see a hint of it in his eyes.

“You would not be capable of pronouncing my given name. You may call me Nines, so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Gavin truly should not be as surprised as he is to hear this being – Nines – speaking in perfect English. Most of the young people he’s met in the communities speak predominantly English, it would make sense for the aquatic population to know the language to facilitate interactions. That’s on speculation alone, of course, but Gavin believes they interact far more than he’s been led to believe.

“Uh. Sure. Sorry about that.” Gavin places his hands on his lap, folded close to himself, nonthreatening. Nines seems less afraid than the others before him, far more imposing in the face of someone who may harm him, and Gavin is determined not to screw up this interaction. “I’ve never met a merman before – or a mermaid, really. You can probably tell I’m not from around here. I’m, uh, Gavin. Gavin Reed.”

“You are clearly a southerner. We do not tend to indulge your kind, given the tumultuous history our southern cousins have had with the land-dwellers. They warn us to be wary, but you have been here for some time now. Several pods have sighted you since the ice began to melt.”

Nines does not try to lie or disguise his reason for being in the open – he was assigned by his pod to test Gavin, to ensure he is not a threat and deal with him if he is. He never elaborates on what dealing with him would entail, but Gavin’s sure the old tales of mermaids drowning sailors had to come from somewhere. He tries to be on his best behavior after that, answering every question and trying to tell Nines more of where he’s from rather than burdening him with excessively invasive questions.

Instead of telling him about bad drivers and people who falsely claim to be from Detroit, he chooses to focus on more easily transmissible knowledge, things Nines might understand without making Gavin run circles around his own thought process to explain. He talks about the air quality and the limited access to nature, about how people rarely seem to see past their own experiences and are comfortable living within the confines of their routine. It’s more personal when he tells Nines about how he’s had fewer panic attacks since moving above the Arctic Circle, and when Nines tells him in return about the decline in sea ice making it harder for his people to survive further from the shore.

They talk until Gavin’s jaw begins to tire, which is a feat. They might have kept going, too, if it weren’t for another merman surfacing to call for Nines. They speak in a tongue Gavin has never heard before, interspaced with odd vocalizations, and the second merman disappears.

“It is time for us to procure food. You have been surprisingly pleasant company, and not as intensely ignorant as I first thought. Perhaps we may converse again.”

“You know, that’s not the nicest way to _not_ call me a dumbass, but I’ll take it. I’m gonna be around here for a while, so if you want – like, if you really want to talk again, we could meet up.”

It’s a mediocre offer, Gavin knows, and he’s not sure Nines really wants to waste his time with a loud and rude human just because he’s not a direct threat. It’s a surprise when the merman accepts, even slipping him a genuine smile before sliding past the first waves and diving under, never resurfacing where Gavin can see.

They meet several times after the first, with Gavin even blowing off work to make his way to the shore. It’s harder to get time off now that the temperature is more conducive to their work, but there’s still enough of a worker rotation for him not to get cut off for a day or two of missed construction. With each time he does find Nines there, Gavin slowly learns more about why the merman is so guarded – the truth of why there are hardly any reported merfolk sightings, some of their history, how his particular kind has collaborated with the people of the Arctic to keep both land and water traditions alive. He explains their hunting practices and their family units, tells Gavin about his brothers, and they slowly get to know each other.

Gavin doesn’t have many interesting stories to tell in return, but he can talk about the time he got his nose slashed in a bar fight and the time Tina slapped him because he thought she couldn’t defend herself. That was at the very start of their friendship, when Gavin’s views on women were still largely shaped by his father’s opinions, and he’s glad Tina knocked some sense into him.

Nines asks, innocent and curious, if Tina is Gavin’s mate. It makes him choke and sputter before laughing, because that would be either perfect or a disaster waiting to happen.

“No, no. She’s just a friend, I don’t have a – a _mate_. Haven’t really thought about it lately, which is weird. You know, I always needed someone – like, I couldn’t feel good on my own. I needed to have some dude always telling me I wasn’t an asshole, but I really was. I think, uh, I’m better now. So, I’m cool with it.”

“Oh, you prefer to mate with men of your species.” Nines says it without judgment, and Gavin hadn’t even realized how easy it was to come out to him. He wonders if merfolk have those divisions at all, if they care who they fuck, or if they’re just out to have babies and be done with it. “I understand being without a mate. In my case, it is because the task of protecting my pod takes precedence over interpersonal relationships. I do wonder what it might feel like, however, to have more than momentary encounters with a partner.”

“It can be real good, you know, just having someone around. Fucking is great, yeah, but the sappy stuff – holding hands and cuddling, that kind of stuff, that’s really nice.” In the summer, it’s easier for Gavin’s cheeks to color from pure embarrassment, and he feels it happening now. He almost jumps when Nines touches him, gentle fingers trailing over the back of his exposed hands. “What?”

“I apologize.” Nines pulls back then, even moving away from where they were sitting together, the blubber of his tail condensing and fanning with each flex of muscle under it. “I have never seen holding hands as intimate affection, and I grew curious. We require our hands free to swim, to hunt, to protect ourselves when on land.”

It’s then that something clicks in Gavin’s mind. Nines has mentioned, on occasion, that relationships between merfolk and land-dwellers can sometimes be intimate or familial. Gavin has never taken that to mean romantic, not before this moment, but he suddenly finds himself wondering if it’s possible. More importantly, he finds himself wondering if it’s possible for them, because Nines is breathtaking, and Gavin still wants nothing more than to feel his hands on that soft skin.

“Nines,” he says, his throat a little dry. Gavin might try to attribute it to the cold, but it’s a surprisingly warm day. Hesitant and a little worried of crossing boundaries, Gavin holds out his hand with the palm facing upwards. “Do you wanna try?”

The hand that meets his is unbelievably smooth and soft. Nines seems to share the same hesitance, but his grip is still firm. Gavin is the one who moves their bodies closer, sitting so his clothed leg brushes up against the side of Nines’s tail, and he’s the one to intertwine their fingers.

“This feels pleasant.”

“Good. It should,” Gavin replies, though he’s not entirely sure this means anything. He can feel his body heating with curiosity, shame at his own thoughts, and a deep current of both attraction and arousal. He hopes he can keep himself in check, keep from crossing any lines. The thought almost breaks him out of the moment, but Nines takes Gavin’s other hand and guides it to rest on his tail.

This is a sign of trust beyond what Gavin could ever expect. He thinks back a few months to the time he thought he’d never even see merfolk with his own eyes and marvels at the difference, meets Nines’s eyes to ensure this won’t be a problem. Slowly, gently, Gavin slides his hand down the length of the white tail and feels it give beneath the slightest pressure. He’s careful not to hurt Nines or push any boundaries, but further worries quickly leave when Nines makes the sweetest little happy sound.

“It feels pleasant,” he explains, seeming nervous and just as hesitant as Gavin feels. There’s a silent beat between them, and then Gavin pulls Nines closer, resting his hand flat against his tail. “Gavin?”

“Am I getting this wrong?” Gavin asks, more cautious than he’d be with another human, but Nines squeezes his hand and shakes his head. He’s not sure which one of them moves first or who kisses who, only that he ends up pressed down against the rocky beach with a lapful of merman. He’s not going to complain.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter @xhelasdottir.


End file.
